


Revelation

by MiladyDragon



Series: Dragon-Verse: Series Two [12]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragon-Verse, Dragons, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1245397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiladyDragon/pseuds/MiladyDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick Delaware's first couple of weeks at Torchwood are eye-opening...and that's not even considering the secret his boss, Ianto Jones, has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is...the way Patrick found out that Ianto is a dragon. Hope you enjoy!

 

_**11 August 2008** _

 

 

Patrick realised very early on – like two days in – that being part of Torchwood was going to be the strangest experience of his entire life.

It all began with what he called the Corgi Incident, and had to do with an alien device, a hapless UNIT private, and Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth…who the Captain affectionately referred to as ‘Lizzie’.

The Queen was actually quite nice. She reminded Patrick of his Granddad Pat: quiet, friendly, and who could kick your ass if you looked at them the wrong way. She also seemed fond of feeding everyone cookies…or biscuits, as the British seemed to refer to them as.

It was almost like speaking another language sometimes.

Also, in his first week on the team, he’d failed his drivers’ test because he forgot to drive on the wrong side of the road, which meant he’d gotten a stern lecture about civilian safety from that cop he’d sort-of met on the day of his interview…who turned out to be Toshiko’s girlfriend. Patrick could see them together. He really could. Detective Inspector Swanson and Dr Toshiko Sato were perfect for each other: both of them tough women who weren’t afraid of much of anything, Swanson being the more vocal of the pair. They also were a gorgeous couple, and Patrick would go to his grave before admitting he’d had at least one fantasy of being the man meat of their sexy female sandwich.

Yes, he was heartily ashamed of himself for it afterward.

To be honest, if Toshiko wasn’t already in an extremely happy relationship, Patrick might have asked her out, since it seemed that relationships between team members wasn’t frowned on given the sometimes public displays between their leaders, Harkness and Jones. If what Harper said was true, the pair was shamelessly affectionate and it was thoroughly disgusting. He’d offered Patrick an insulin injection if the sweetness ever got to him, and that was when Patrick knew he’d get along just fine with the rather acerbic doctor. Harper had taken him out on a two-man pub crawl and Patrick had learned the danger of getting shit-faced on what was considered Torchwood time, or in other words, twenty-four hours a day. While he hadn’t been invited to chase after the Weevil Patrick had been expected to report into the Hub and observe the team in action.

Deborah had made him a coffee. It was nice of her but it wasn’t quite up to the par of the coffee he’d gotten at the interview.

Deborah was the one person he hadn’t been quite sure how to act around at first. There was something about the sweet-faced young woman that made Patrick want to treat her like the little sister he’d never had, but that was before she’d volunteered her life story and how she’d come to work for Torchwood. Sure, he still wanted to hug her more than was strictly appropriate, but he also recognised that she was just as tough as anyone on the team, having had to re-learn nearly everything after she’d come through the Rift from 1958.

She’d also been the most helpful with finding him a new apartment – flat, he needed to remember these new terms – and he’d signed the lease and moved in within four days of being hired. Eoin had assured him it was in a good area, and had brought him beer as a housewarming gift.

And then there was the Captain and his Second. While Harkness had never come straight out and confirmed it, Patrick had guessed that he was from some time in the future. That was the thing about this team: once you were a member, they pretty much talked about everything and anything, and Patrick had to gather up the clues he’d been given and put two and two together. Of course they answered anything he asked, unless it was far too personal – like Toshiko’s collection of what she called “Janto Porn” – but sometimes it was just the idea that Patrick didn’t know just what to ask. With information flowing at what seemed like a casual rate for the people around him, it was like trying to fish for trout when it was mostly salmon in the stream.

Jones though…he was an enigma, because apparently being an inn owner qualified him to be the second in command of a team of alien chasers.

Sure, the guy was competent and a complete badass – one that Patrick would have loved to introduce to his Uncle Phil, if only to watch how they would react to each other – but he just wasn’t sure how his former profession translated to Torchwood. Not that saying Jones couldn’t hack it, because the guy knew shit that Patrick hadn’t ever dreamed of even asking about, but the American’s perception of someone who ran a glorified bed and breakfast shouldn’t be as impressive as Jones obviously was. He knew he was letting his previous perceptions get to him, but it was just difficult to reconcile.

Everyone else in Torchwood seemed to have had some sort of experience with the weird before being recruited…except for Ianto Jones.

Still, that didn’t mean Patrick didn’t respect the hell out of him. Jones was the one overseeing most of his training, and he had a meticulous style that had Patrick picking up the information quickly. There was so much to learn, and at times he felt completely overwhelmed, but Jones had been patient with him, and after only a couple of mishaps and misunderstandings Patrick felt he was well on his way.

Still, with all the training and information and sharing he was being bombarded with, there was one more question he had, and he wasn’t certain how to ask.

Patrick wanted to know what had happened to the dragon.

He was certain nothing bad had happened to it. The team really seemed to care, and judging from the prehistoric creature currently taking up residence in the upper levels of the Hub Patrick couldn’t see them killing it or holding it captive somewhere. Yes, it had been attacking but he believed Eoin when his friend had claimed that it had been around the city for years and nothing bad had occurred. He really needed to know, and that need had only grown over the nearly two weeks he’d been in training.

This was why he was currently standing just outside Jack’s office door, knocking on the frame.

Jack looked up from his paperwork, smiling as he saw who was there. “C’mon in, Patrick,” he invited, leaning back in his chair.

Patrick entered, taking the chair on the opposite side of the desk. Harkness had a leadership style that Patrick quite liked. He allowed his people to think for themselves, but was the last line where decisions were ultimately made. He always listened and took their knowledge into consideration, and would explain if he didn’t go along with their comments. He was a good leader, and Patrick respected him already.

“Everything going alright?” he asked, looking concerned.

“Oh yeah,” Patrick answered, giving his Captain a lopsided grin. “Sometimes I do wonder where my brain is going to keep it all, though.”

Harkness laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Ianto says you’re doing fine. Besides, this is why we have a team: to help each other and to fill in the blanks when needed.” He took a sip from the mug on his desk, and then grimaced, touching the comm in his right ear. “Ianto, isn’t it coffee time yet?” He listened as Jones obviously answered. “Yeah, okay. Patrick’s in my office so bring his up here when you come.”

Then his attention was back on Patrick. “So, what can I help you with?”

“Well,” Patrick began, suddenly feeling a bit worried that his question might not be any of his business, “I was wondering something and I was hoping you could tell me.”

Harkness shrugged. “Sure, what’s up?”

He decided there was nothing for it but to just ask. If it wasn’t something he was meant to know, Harkness would tell him. “I wanted to know what happened to that dragon, and if it was okay.”

The Captain examined him, and it was in those moments that Patrick could tell that Harkness wasn’t from this time and place. There was something in his eyes that spoke of experiences far beyond anything that he could possibly understand, and it sent a shiver down Patrick’s spine. But then, Harkness smiled. “He’s fine. Do you want to meet him, see for yourself?”

Now that wasn’t what Patrick had been expecting at all. His heart began racing in excitement, and he couldn’t help his answering grin. A real, live dragon! How cool was that? “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” Harkness answered. “I can arrange it.”

Patrick found himself nodding so fast he actually felt a bit dizzy. “That would be…yeah, I really want to.” A lot of what he’d learned since coming to Torchwood had been negative, and seeing some of the wonder that he knew had to be out there would be the highlight of his life so far.

“Want to what?”

He twisted his head around as Jones walked into the room, balancing three coffee mugs in his long-fingered hands. Patrick was given the one that said “Welcome to Cardiff” in glittery red lettering; it had been a joke on Deborah’s part, and he’d adopted the mug for his own. Harkness’ was the same ubiquitous blue-striped one, a match for the one that sat abandoned on his desk. “Patrick wants to meet the dragon,” Harkness said, accepting the coffee. “He wants to make sure he’s alright.”

Jones froze for a split second, and then he looked at Patrick closely. Everyone in the Hub had secrets; hell, that was the way of life for Patrick’s entire family. But he guessed that Jones’ were king-sized judging from the expression in his older-than-dirt blue eyes.

Harkness might come from the future, but Jones was definitely from the past even if he’d never come through the Rift. It was no wonder the pair of them were so attracted to each other.

Jones then shrugged. “I think that’s reasonable. There are quite a few things Patrick should be clued in on, since he’s proved already to be an asset to Torchwood.”

Patrick wanted to puff up with pride over that comment, but he hid it with a great deal of difficulty. Just the other day he’d managed to identify an alien weapon that Harkness hadn’t been able to identify – that had been one of the many clues that their Captain wasn’t quite what he’d seemed – and that identification had managed to save the team when the thing had gone off under one of Toshiko’s scans.

“Sounds like a plan, then.” Harkness took a sip from his mug, and Patrick had to smirk at the sound he made. It was like listening to the soundtrack to a porno flick. Yes, Jones’ coffee was just that good.

“Why don’t I go and arrange it?” Jones offered, even as he was rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Meet up on the Millennium Centre roof in about an hour?”

Harkness set his coffee down and then consulted his watch. “Yeah, okay. It’ll be dark enough by then that our scaly friend won’t draw too much attention.”

“I’ll take care of it then.” Jones nodded, gave Patrick one more assessing look, and then left the office. “And Patrick, you still have Toshiko’s mainframe tutorial to get through,” he said over his shoulder. “I suggest you get to that.”

Patrick sighed. If he thought Jones was a harsh taskmaster, it was nothing on Toshiko Sato.

 

**********

 

Patrick wasn’t afraid of heights, or of falling.

He was more afraid of that sudden stop at the end of the fall.

The Millennium Centre roof was of smooth copper, and it was slightly curved, giving the impression of unsteadiness as he and Harkness set foot on it. Patrick was glad that he’d gotten away from suits pretty quickly after Harper had ‘accidentally’ spilled some sort of alien goo all over his good work one, because he wouldn’t have been comfortable at all with standing on that roof with his dress shoes on. The sensible sneakers – trainers, darn it – made him feel slightly steadier.

He honestly didn’t know how Jones did it.

Harkness though must have had a death wish, the way he strode across the roof like it was flat ground. There was a slight breeze, and it buffeted Harkness’ coat around his legs as he stood there, hands on his hips as he stared into the darkening sky. Patrick had come to the conclusion early on that his new boss had a hero complex a mile wide, and wasn’t afraid to show it off; in fact, the Captain did it unconsciously, and his team wasn’t afraid to kid him about it.

Patrick looked out over the city, and smiled. He hadn’t been in Cardiff long when he’d come to realise that he’d enjoy living there, and thanks to Eoin and Deborah and the rest of the team, he’d gotten a crash course in the history and culture of Wales. There were places he hadn’t been yet, but Patrick had no doubt he’d be learning in no time.

“There he is,” Harkness said, pulling Patrick from his enjoyment of the city around them. Patrick turned where Harkness indicated. A speck was flying toward them, and it didn’t take long for it to take on the obvious shape of the dragon that Patrick had launched a coffee urn at not that long ago. It was graceful in the air, its large wings steady as it surfed the air currents, tilting slightly toward them as it approached.

 _He_ , Harkness and Jones had said. Patrick had to remember that.

There was a sound like leather creaking as the dragon came in for a landing on the roof, the clack of talons against the metal almost loud in the silence. Patrick knew his mouth was open in sheer awe as the dragon’s head turned to look at him, cat-like blue eyes almost glowing in the twilight.

“So,” the dragon said, in a voice as deep as a cavern, “you’re the one I need to thank for pouring coffee all over my scales and giving me a headache.”

Patrick could hear the humour in his tone, and see it in the glitter of his eyes. He shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

The dragon actually laughed. “I wasn’t happy, but I was impressed by your imagination. And my mate was more than happy to give me a bath when I did return home.”

Patrick’s eyes widened. There was more than one of them? “Mate?” he managed to say past his shock.

The dragon hunkered down, belly resting against the copper plates. He crossed his front legs, and Patrick was quite impressed by the size of his claws. But Patrick couldn’t help but see the sadness that flickered in those old and intelligent eyes, and something niggled at the back of the American’s mind at the sight. “I am actually the last of my kind, Patrick Delaware,” he answered, voice rumbling low. “There are no other dragons left in the world.”

The memory that sparked, of Harkness confronting Agnew about another dragon having been tortured by Torchwood One, made the sudden lump in his chest grow even larger. This fantastical creature, all alone…it was just too upsetting to contemplate. “But you do have someone?” he pressed, needing to make certain.

“I do. He is my mate, even though he is not dragonkind. I shall love him for all eternity.” Harkness came up beside the dragon, resting his hand on one scaly side. There was something in the Captain’s gaze, and Patrick wondered what that was all about. Wasn’t Harkness with Jones? Or was he just reacting to the tragedy that the dragon’s story was.

“But you’re fine now, right?” Patrick asked. “I didn’t hurt you really, did I?”

The sadness was gone, replaced by a smile which showed an impressive set of teeth. “I am, I assure you. Thank you for your concern. And welcome to Torchwood.”

Wait a second… It suddenly hit Patrick like a two-by-four to the forehead. “Damnit, it was another fucking test, wasn’t it?” He pointed his finger at the dragon, not even caring if he was going to piss him off or something that would get him eaten. “You’re in cahoots with Torchwood, and you came along to test us!”

That got him a bright laugh from Harkness. “See, I told you he’d get it!”

The dragon snorted. “Yes, Jack, you did. And if you seem to recall, I agreed with you.”

Patrick gave the dragon a side-eyed look. This explained how Harkness had known about that other dragon and how they’d arranged this other test. It also explained how Harkness and Tish had known the dragon’s gender, and hadn’t just been assigning one out of ignorance.

Oh, he really should have gotten it sooner!

“I could have really hurt you!” Patrick exclaimed, shaking his finger right up in the dragon’s snout.

“There are only certain things that could really injure me,” the dragon said reassuringly. “Although we certainly hadn’t expected what you did…which was brilliant, by the way.”

“Thanks, I suppose.” But Patrick wasn’t about to let compliments get to his head. “But I would have felt really guilty if I had, you know.”

The dragon lost his grin. “Yes, I do know that…now.”

Patrick watched as Harkness poked the dragon in the side. “Go on, then. You know you want to.”

The dragon’s large head swivelled around to glare at the Captain. “I’m getting to it, Jack.” Then he turned back to Patrick. “There’s one more thing you need to be aware of, now that you’re a part of the team, and I’ve come to realise that I can trust you.”

“What - ?” Patrick started, confused by the dragon’s choice of words.

However, he didn’t finish as a golden glow surrounded the dragon’s body.

Harkness stepped back as the glow shrank, compacting in on itself into what looked like a human shape. As Patrick watched, the glow faded away…

And the dragon was gone, replaced by the unmistakable form of Ianto Jones.

Patrick was completely and utterly speechless. This was…wow. And he couldn’t even tell Eoin about it.

“The goldfish look is not a good one for you,” Harkness teased. Patrick snapped his mouth shut so hard his teeth clicked.

Then he began cursing, and he cursed until he began to laugh.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, Delaware?” Harkness asked, a wide smile on his face.

“Fuck you, Harkness,” Patrick spluttered.

“Sorry, I’m taken.” Harkness draped an arm across Jones’ shoulders, pulling him in until they were plastered against each other.

“As I said,” Jones chuckled, “welcome to Torchwood. Just when you think things can’t get any weirder…”

“They do.” Patrick shook his head. “Okay, is there anything else I need to know before I check myself into the nearest mental hospital?”

“Funny you should ask…” Harkness said, looking very sneaky indeed.

Oh God…

 

 

 


End file.
